Nightly Prayers
by KuroiShinigami07
Summary: When the nights are filled with pain and torment, the only thing you can do is pray for an end to it all. Hisoka centric More warnings inside please read them MM,Lemon,Yaoi,NC,Anal,Inc,Minor,Oral
1. Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

**A/N:** Yay, I'm back with a new fanfic to show the world just how fucked up my mind is. Sorry it took me so long to come back with another story but I had to send my laptop to get fixed and then I had to figure out how in the world to edit this story so I wouldn't get in trouble. Oh well. I guess good things come to those who wait and a whole bunch of other trite clichés.

I wish I could remember how the hell I got this idea stuck in my head so that I wouldn't seem like a complete sadist but, alas, I can't remember. All I know is that I had an idea to write a fic with each chapter being titled/themed after the lines of a prayer and I also wanted to give a little more attention to Hisoka's horrific childhood and…stuff. But then again, maybe I am just an evil, sick, sadistic bastard who enjoys doing mean things to a helpless empath who's younger than me and the prayer was just convenient.

Next, I want to thank my best friend Beth for attempting to edit this fic despite having never watched YnM and thus didn't want to read this. Thanks Beth, you're a sweetheart (despite sucking at editing and not notice my grammar errors); I still love you.

But anyway, on with the **WARNINGS** (so please, please read). This fic is…ummm…yeah. I can't really think of a good way to describe it other than saying it's dark, sick, twisted, fucked up and I'm just plain ol' evil. So, if you have any problems with rape, child abuse, incestuous rape, and any other bad things that I decide to do to Hisoka in later chapters, don't read this fic. It isn't explicit but it's just...not something young children should read. This is rated M for a reason (even though it should be NC-17 and I may get in trouble with FF.N) so no flames or hate emails from pissed off people who feel offended.

This story is written in Hisoka's POV because I write a whole lot better in first person. Hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yami no Matsuei or else I would have been damned if I'd let it be so horribly dubbed. That and I would have had a Tsuzuki/Hisoka sex scene somewhere in the series just for shits and giggles. Now on with the story.

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Chapter One: Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 

The silver light from the moon barely filters in through the bars of the window of my dark, dank cell. Small slivers of light lay on the ground in front of me, acting as the only illumination during the night. The soft sound of the wind blowing through the trees and grass – rustling the foliage – can be heard, even if the sound is somewhat muted. It's as if Mother Nature is trying to sing me a lullaby only to be shut out by the concrete walls that surround me.

All is motionless and quiet in the large traditional home that I dwell in, even if my world is limited to a small caged cellar. All the servants who live here and take care of my family are asleep; tucked away safe and warm in their futons while beautiful dreams fill their vision. Me, I'm huddled in a corner without sheets or pillows, out of the path of the soft glow of the moon that lulls the rest of the world to sleep.

Sleep. That's something I would love to enjoy now; the peace and calm of slumber that can take me away from the pain and despair that I encounter daily. However, the emotions that my parents are feeling are too strong right now and I have to concentrate with all my might to keep their anger from driving me mad. I've always been cursed with the ability to sense the emotions and feelings of others no matter how much it torments me.

I have always been able to feel my parents above everyone else, to the point where I can sometimes faintly hear their thoughts. This is especially true for my mother, and for that she hates me. She calls me a demon, a monster, an abomination, something that could not have been born from her womb. I don't think anything else in the world can hurt more than knowing and feeling how much your own mother hates you. The woman that gave me life, fed me from her bosom, and cradled me to sleep when I was younger now wishes I were dead or never born.

And this is why I can feel her and my father's emotions right now – they're arguing because of me. My mother is angry at my father for his "vile seed" causing her to give birth to a monster and she refuses to let him near her. In fact, their marriage has been cold and rocky since my powers were first discovered but as they matured, their fights only increased and worsened. It was so bad that father even began to have an affair with one of the servants. According to all the women who work here, my father is just too charismatic and handsome to turn down. Whatever. It's not like I have or will ever look at the man whom I received half of my genes from the same way they will. But I do feel sorry for the servant who my father cheated with; after mother found out… Well, let's just say that my mother is _not _someone you want to piss off.

After what seems like an eternity, I begin to feel some of my parents' emotions quiet down so I can only assume that they finally stopped arguing. Either that or mother has just kicked father out of her room (that right; they don't even stay in the same room anymore) or he left on his own volition. Despite this, I can still feel my mother's anger, but the flames of her hatred – although still burning strong – have died some. It's quieted enough to make me sigh and no longer hear her thoughts. The only thing I feel from that woman is her rage towards me and the man she married and once loved.

However, this feeling of peace and serenity is short lived as fear and terror now grip me as I can feel emotions overpower the ones my mother are feeling. That can mean one of two things; either my mother is leaving out of the house or someone else is getting closer to me. Since I doubt that my mother would leave at this time of night (even though I have no idea what time it could be; I just know that it's late enough for everyone else in the house to be asleep). So that must mean someone is coming to my cell.

It's a few seconds before I can attach a face to the emotions I am feeling and I almost gasp when I realize that it's my father who's coming for a late night visit. He's no longer angry (which is a good thing) but instead he feels something else; something stronger. It isn't long before I can place that emotion and I can finally understand why he's coming down to see me. I can do nothing now but close my eyes and hope and pray that he will think I'm asleep and let me stay that way.

My heart nearly stops when I can finally hear the soft sound of his feet walking down the hall, a gentle whisper that promises not so gentle actions. After what seems like an eternity my father stops to stand in front of my cell bars and I can hear the jingling of the keys as he begins to unlock the door. It takes all of my willpower to not start crying and beg my father to please leave me alone and let me rest peacefully.

"Hisoka, I know you're not sleeping." My father's voice is devoid of any emotion that one would normally show their child. Instead, he sounds like a corrupt prison guard abusing his power over the inmates whom he watches over. His voice is cold, heartless and sadistic and I know that tomorrow my entire body will be sore.

I turn my head so that I am now facing him and I fail at the task of not crying. Hot streams of tears roll down the side of my face as I stare at the man before me in his eyes. He seems completely unaffected by my emotions and tears as if I am nothing more than an inconvenience that should be punished for being such.

He motions for me to come to him and I know better than to disobey any of his orders despite the fact that every fiber of my being is begging for me to run away from the man before me. Although I am complying with his command, I walk as slowly as I can towards him, my head down as I try to mentally prepare myself for what is going to happen tonight.

It isn't long before my maddeningly slow walk comes to an end and I come to a stop to stand about a foot away from my father; my head still down and the tears never cease their journey down my face. He lifts my head up so that I am now staring him in his eyes. His emerald eyes – the exact same color as mine – are the only thing I try to focus on as he moves his hand to the side of my face to wipe the tears from my eyes. I know better than to think of this action as fatherly because all of his intentions are anything but.

My father moves his hand from my face down to my shoulders and he nudges me to fall to my knees. I close my eyes, while kneeling perfectly still and await the inevitable as I hear a chair being moves across the hard cement floor before it comes to rest before me.

"Open your eyes Hisoka," I hear my father say after a few moments of deafening silence. He's speaking in a tone that should never be directed towards a child, especially one's own. He speaks to me as if I am not his son, not of his own flesh, and his emotions are no better; it seems as if everything I feel from him is anything but paternal.

I know I should be doing as I'm told but I know what awaits me when I do open my now puffy eyes. I am not surprised, but instead frightened, when I do open my eyes to the scene before me. My father is sitting before me, his legs spread open so that my face is less than a foot from his crotch. His pale yukata is spread open and his cherry red erection seems to be staring at me, begging for some attention. I look up at my father, my teary eyes and frightened expression pleading for him to not do this too me. It's not like this is the first time, and it will probably not be the last, but that can't stop me from wishing for an impossible dream.

Father only responds to me silent pleas by moving his right hand to the back of my head to force it to its target. There isn't too much pressure fearing that if he does move to fast, I may retaliate while he's completely vulnerable and exposed. Despite the lack of too much force, I do slowly inch my face forward towards to the object of his arousal and my fear. Every time he comes down here I resist, but in the end I will comply. Not because I like it or because I fear the punishment (although I do), but instead, I do it because I feel as if I deserve it. Maybe I am nothing more than a monster, an abomination that should be used, abused and degraded.

It doesn't take long before the tip of his arousal is at my lips and I continue to hesitate. I hate every second of this but it's not like I have much of a choice unless I'd prefer a more forceful, painful alternative. So I open my mouth and nearly gag as the hardened organ makes its way to the back of my throat. I pull away some and my father allows me to do this action; the last thing he wants me to do is choke before I can successfully get him off.

When I can finally breathe again, I try to take more of my father's erection into my mouth. After a few seconds I feel the hand that's still on the back of my head pull me back some before moving me forward again. He sets up a slow rhythm, watching me intently as if that will deter me from attempting to bite him. Although that thought has crossed my mind several times, I'm afraid of what will happen to me afterwards. So instead, I ignore his lust-clouded eyes and throaty moans and pretend that the object in my mouth is nothing more than a popsicle or lollipop.

It's hard for me to keep up the lie inside of my head, however. I can faintly taste the salty drops of fluids that seep from the tiny slit at the tip of the head. It slowly trickles down my throat and it makes me want to pull away so I can vomit all over the floor in order to expel what I have already swallowed and prevent myself from ingesting anything else. I know that this is an impossible wish for me, judging from the throaty moans coming from my father, he won't let me move anytime soon. So there's no other option left for me but to deal with all of this.

After a few moments, the movements of his hand resting at the back my head increases. The actions are now erratic and rhythmless so I know that it won't be long before my humiliation is over. However, knowing this does nothing for the pain that my body is experiencing now. My scalp begins to hurt as his actions become less gentle and the only thing driving him is his perverted desires. I have to move my hands to rest on the inside of his thighs in order to try and keep up with the new pace that he's setting. I let out a whine from the back of my throat in response to the pain on my head; I can feel some of the hairs being torn from my scalp. However, instead of responding to my cries of pain, father only moans his pleasure and pulls on me harder.

Father's hand is pulling on my hair more feverishly, and he's beginning to thrust his hips to my already overstuffed mouth, cutting off my respiration and threatening to choke and suffocate me. But it's only a matter of seconds before my father lets out a primal moan, letting anyone who may be awake and listening know of the sins being committed in this small, dark cell. I feel his hot seed fill my mouth, overflowing and spilling down my lips and chin like spilled milk.

"Swallow it," I barely hear my father say, but even if I didn't, I know that's what he wants me to do. I have no idea how he derives any joy from making me ingest this vile substance as if it is a delicacy. If anything, I think he may do it to either get rid of some of the evidence that he's been down here or he just likes to see me suffer. Either way, it takes a few moments for me to will my throat to listen to my brain and do what is asked of me.

I swallow my father's semen, the same substance that is responsible for my existence, but this task is a little hard since father has yet to remove his rapidly softening penis from my mouth. He wants to make sure that I milk him for all that he's worth and as soon as I'm done and he's satisfied, he removes his hand from my hair and allows me to dislodge myself from his lap. I quickly move away from him and slowly begin to count to ten in my head, hoping that that will keep me from vomiting all over the floor and his feet in order to rid my body of what should have never been ingested.

I'm still kneeling on my floor with my forehead pressed against the cool concrete and I let that soothe me. I hear movement from above me but I don't bother to look up to see what the man who uses me as nothing more than a cheap whore is doing. He's probably cleaning himself off to hide anything that might seem at all suspicious; the last thing he probably wants is for one of the servants to see any stains.

I know that my assumptions are wrong when I feel his hand rub against by backside, moving my yukata up with each motion. My eyes shoot open and I whimper before I move away from his invading touch; I don't want to do anything else tonight, or any other night for that matter. I turn around to sit on the floor and look at him, my eyes full of fear and tears as he looms over me. He's angry that I pulled away from him and I shut my eyes as I see his foot begin to move towards me. In a matter of seconds I feel a sharp pain in my chest from his kick. I fall backwards and curl up into a ball, my hands rising to grab my injured flesh, my breath quickly leaving me.

Father looks down at me, anger and impatience seeping from his entire being like a cold sweat. He's angry at my defiance and impatient because I am now hyperventilating from the blow. My breaths are coming in short pants and I close my eyes to try to calm myself and allow fresh oxygen into my deprived, burning lungs. After a few more moments of my harsh, ragged breathing, I finally hear my father walking out of my cell. I crack my eyes open slightly and observe as he grabs the chair he brought in with him earlier and leaves. He says nothing to me nor does he make any attempt to make sure that I'm alright. I guess he doesn't care or he's still upset about not being able to do more to my already abused, defiled body.

It takes a few more minutes before my breathing comes out again in a slow, steady rhythm but I make no attempt to move from the spot I was knocked down to. The tears have ceased to fall from my pink, puffy eyes and I begin to think that I no longer have any more tears to shed for this evening. I shudder at the thought of what I had to experience once again tonight and I silently pray that father will not come down here again for a while, at least until my small body finally heals from the abuse of tonight and a few evenings ago. The only thing left for me to do is stay curled up in a tight ball, trying to give myself the warmth and comfort I so desperately need as I finally lay me down to sleep.

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A/N**: OMG, I can't believe I wrote this. I warned you all that this fic is seriously messed up and I have lived up to that. It is so wrong that I'm using the lines from such a nice lil' prayer for my own sick twisted story, but I don't think I'll be struck down by lightning anytime soon. Maybe I should just work on something less angst-y but I don't think that'll happen anytime soon. Oh well. 

Anyway, please review so I know someone's reading this fic and I'm not just writing this for nothing. No flames because they will be laughed at and forwarded to my old professors from last year whom I didn't like.

I just hope I don't get in trouble for posting this fic; it's seriously inappropriate. And if this fic doesn't get removed, for everyone who remembers their bedtime prayers, you shouldn't be surprised that the next chapter is "I Pray My Lord My Soul to Keep". Bye and I hope you enjoyed this.

- KuroiShinigami07


	2. I Pray My Lord My Soul to Keep

**A/N:** Yay, I'm back with the next chapter to keep all my loyal fans happy. Sometimes I can't believe that I actually wrote this and the previous chapter but what can I say, I'm evil.

This chapter, like the previous, is in Hisoka's POV (I suck at writing in third person). Unfortunately, this chapter is another recant of Hisoka's fateful meeting with Muraki (I didn't want to be unoriginal but it fit this line of the prayer so well) so please forgive me.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Please keep reviewing or else I'll feel unloved and I won't update.

Now, for the **warnings**. If you have any problems with rape, torture, bad things happening to Hisoka, or the use of a prayer to write about those things, why the hell are you reading the second chapter and how did you make it through the first? Sure, this chapter is less incestuous but it's still inappropriate, demented and evil so turn back now to keep your soul a little less tainted by me.

Don't own, don't sue. I have no money so all you will get is a crappy laptop and my tears.

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**I Pray My Lord My Soul to Keep**

Freedom. That's the first word that runs through my head as I sneak out of the house to wonder around the land encompassing my home. One of the servants was careless enough to not lock my cell door again after coming down to bring me dinner earlier. I would have almost passed up this opportunity, completely ignoring the door to my prison but the wind that blew through my tiny, barred window had gently pushed at the door, eliciting a creaking sound from the rarely oiled iron. Once I figured that everyone in the household was asleep and that my father wasn't planning on making a late night visit, I slipped out of my cold, lonely prison and hastily left the house, not even bothering to locate a pair of shoes to cover my tiny feet.

And now, I'm running through the dew-kissed blades of grass enjoying my first time out of the house in months. It seems like my parents want to hide me away from the world so no one will know that they bore a monster. Instead, most of my days are spent in either my cell or in some other room of my large house studying diligently to be a proud, honorable bearer of the Kurosaki name.

There is a gentle breeze blowing, caressing my face and hair with a soft, calming touch; Mother Nature giving me the attention and loving affection that I could never expect from my own mother. There are few clouds drifting up above me in the sky, allowing the light from the moon to keep the earth below her in a soft glow so that I may make my way through the area without too much trouble. Even the color of the moon's rays are different tonight; instead of the normal silver it's a shade of red closely resembling the color of a rose. It's as if the moon wanted to do something special for me on this night when I can clearly see her in all her glory.

I have never felt so at ease and relaxed. I am far enough away from my home that I can no longer feel the emotions of everyone who dwells there and this area is completely deserted so I don't have to worry about feeling the emotions of unfamiliar persons. This is sheer bliss and I wish that time would stop right now to give me the peace that I have long desired for since I can remember. No hateful glares, no whispers behind my back, no nagging empathy and no resentful parents.

I stop when I reach a small group of sakura trees that look as if they're weeping pink tears. I have always loved sakuras for their fleeting yet graceful beauty that cannot be rivaled. I reach out my hand to touch a flower that's on a low hanging branch, feeling the texture of the soft, smooth petal between my fingers and I slowly begin to understand why so many poets decided to dedicate most of their time to writing about these flowers.

I step further into the cluster of trees, admiring the beauty when I feel something tickle my empathy. Despite not leaving my house often, I know for a fact that no one else lives around here and this is private property so I can't be feeling the presence of a neighbor or passerby. My curiosity gets the best of me and I move towards the emotions, once again placing up mental shields so that their feelings do not overwhelm my own.

It's a matter of seconds before I can see a man standing beneath one of the many tall trees with a lady friend. I smile to myself knowing that I caught them at a private moment and I debate on whether I should leave them in peace, ask them what they are doing on my family's land or just sit here and watch them, knowing that I won't get another chance to see a loving couple express themselves to one another.

However, something seems completely wrong. Her emotions are not ones a lover would express; instead, there is fear and surprise and it isn't long before I see the man standing with her raise up his hand, the silvery glint of a metallic object in his hand, and then he plunges it in her chest. There is a soft, gurgled yell and I can only assume that he has stabbed her in her chest, preventing her from even screaming into the night that she is being murdered.

I am frozen where I am standing, wanting nothing more than to run away before I am noticed but my body is unwilling to respond to my brain. I let out a choked, strangled sound as I feel more of the woman's emotions filling me, threatening to make me scream out with the pain she was unable to vocalize. I am filled with a sense of dread and fear when the man – no murderer – turns around to look at me, a smirk tugging at the sides of his lips. He lets the still dying, still bleeding frame of the woman fall to the ground with a slight thud, her existence already an afterthought, as he makes his way towards me.

_Nigerou. _

My brain is screaming at me to run away from this madman. He's taunting me, walking slowly towards me, knowing that I am frozen where I stand like one of the many sakura trees that surround us. The evil, sadistic smirk is still on his face, as well as some of the woman's blood but he chooses to ignore the thick, red liquid that's slowing sliding down his cheek like a crimson tear.

_Nigerou._

I look dead into his eyes – his almost clear, silver cat-like eyes – that are slightly veiled by his silver hair. Despite the color of his hair, he doesn't look like he could be older than my father. His alabaster skin rivals my own in its pale complexion, and seems almost ghostly against his white suit. Well, at least it used to be white but is now stained by the red blood of an innocent girl and soon my own.

_NIGEROU!_

The man is a few feet away from me, almost within arms reach of me when my body finally decides to attempt fleeing but its too late now. My legs feel like lead and by the time I actually turn around and begin to run, I feel a hand tug at my yukata. I still try to run away from this murderer, letting the pale fabric slide from my shoulders in order for me to escape. I don't care about the stupid yukata and I don't mind running home naked, as long as I make it there unharmed.

I wish I was so lucky. Instead of slipping my small frame from the harsh fabric in order to make my escape, the obi tied around my waist prevents me from disrobing myself. This gives the murderer the opportunity to catch me, harshly tugging at my yukata and forcefully pulling me to the ground. I shocked by the sudden pain across my back from where I fall against the root of one of the trees, my eyes temporarily closing. When I do open my eyes, I am greeted by my new greatest fears – staring into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.

He's kneeling down on the ground, his knees straddling my hips as he looks down on me like a cat eyeing its kill. That same evil, predatory smirk is still plastered on his face and my entire being is filled with fear and dread; I'm about to die. I escaped my prison in order to be murdered out among the sakuras like some cheesy romance novel.

"Onegai, please don't kill me," I say softly, hot tears falling from my eyes. His emotions are full of blood-lust and sadism. He wants nothing more than to torment me and make me bleed, scream, cry and beg for my life beneath him. Despite his all white features and clothing, this man is no angel, unless he is an angel of death and destruction.

After a few seconds of neither of us moving or speaking, he finally responds to me, his voice deep and low as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear him. "You are very unfortunate, boya. It's way past your bedtime and it would have been better for you if you had stayed at home." He raises his right hand, making the knife he's holding – that same bloodied knife used to kill that poor woman – very evident. But instead of plunging the blade deep into my small frame to eliminate the sole witness of his sin, he moves it down to my waist in order to cut the obi and allow my yukata to fully fall open.

My eyes bulge as his hands help to move the fabric from my small, trembling body. It's as if I'm frozen again while my brain tries to comprehend everything that is happening and threatening to happen to me. But before I can squirm or try to fight back, he abandons the knife at my side and I feel him hand run across my chest, his emotions flooding my mind with an endless abyss of darkness that threatens to consume me. I scream out in pain as his mind violates me, pushing me to the brink of insanity along with him. I have never before in my life experienced such evil and derangement. His thirst for blood and his lust are intertwined making him want to fully violate me before ending my short life.

He pulls away from me, curious about my outburst as he stares down at me. He can't understand why I am screaming out with such fervency when he hasn't done anything to me…yet. As soon as his hand leaves my flesh, the intensity of his emotions dies down dramatically and I stop screaming. His eyes are trained on mine as he attempts to lower his hand once again but he's stopped by the sound of my voice, yelling at him to not touch me.

He lets his brain contemplate all the possibilities before his smile widens, a theory in his mind. "So, my simple touch is causing you pain. Could it be that you can read my thoughts or sense my emotions?" I don't know why I do this, but I nod to him, affirming my curse which he may use as a weapon against me. But he doesn't. Instead, I feel him build a wall against his mind, making the evil in his heart less readable. He touches his hand to my chest gently and this time I don't scream out. I am completely and utterly confused about why he did this, my disorientation evident in my emerald orbs.

"Is that better?" he asks, his voice mocking concern. I nod and hope that he will let me go or at least kill me quickly so that I won't die in extreme, mind-numbing pain. "Good," he continues, "it won't be as much fun if you can't feel everything else." With that said, he moves his hands to my wrists and raises them up above my head, pinning them there with his left hand. I feel so small beneath him, knowing that it is taking him little effort to restrain me.

I foolishly test his strength by trying to move my arms, but there's no way for me to move beneath him; he's much stronger than me. He chuckles at my futile attempts before running his right hand over my chest again, this time caressing my nipples with such care and delicacy that it seems almost loving. Almost.

This action makes me squirm even more, not wanting to be violated like this. It's bad enough that I'm most likely going to die, but if I have to leave this earth, then I at least want what's left of my purity intact.

This murderer turned soon-to-be rapist doesn't even seem to notice or mind my movement, and his hand continues to travel down lower. He lets his fingertips study my small frame while I whimper below him. His hand is too close to where I don't want to be touched. I don't want anyone to ever grope me like this, caressing my most intimate places as if I will enjoy it.

I begin to cry as I feel him take my penis in his hand. "Onegai, yamete kudasai," I say, my voice just above a whisper. But my pleas fall on deaf ears as he begins to pump the soft flesh in a slow, steady rhythm. I close my eyes and cry harder as my body begins to react, betraying me through its arousal. Mentally, I frightened, disgusted and feel violated but physically, my body only wants more of this gentle, blissful touch.

My eyes snap back open when I feel him take me into his mouth; the warm, wet cavern giving my body the attention that I don't want. I sob even louder and try to move away from his touch; not even my father has touched me like this (he's more interested in his own gratification than my own) and I want nothing more than for all of this to end. But again, my resistance is ignored and the madman grabs my hips with his free hand to keep me still as he continues giving me a blowjob.

It isn't long before my body is finally satisfied and I cum inside of his mouth, my mind temporarily clouded in blissful contentment. But these emotions within me are quickly replaced by disgust and shame at myself for enjoying being molested by a murderer. He releases my wrists and I take this opportunity to turn to my side and curl up into a ball, crying out my pain and anguish. He allows me to cry, all the time relishing in my pain; he wanted nothing more than to humiliate and degrade me.

And now, he wants to defile me. He turns me back around so that I am once again on my back and he pushes my legs apart. I look up at him and notice that the reason why he let me cry for as long as I did was because he took the opportunity to disrobe himself. He's now kneeling between my legs, naked from the waist down and his shirt open revealing his toned, yet pale chest to me. I try to move from underneath him, finally using an opening to my advantage since he's no longer restraining me. He lets me claw at the ground in order to move away from him for a few seconds, enjoying my useless attempts at fleeing before once again placing his hand forcefully on my chest, holding me still underneath him. I'm too weak to push him away or to really move underneath the weight of his hand. Unfortunately, it isn't there for long before he moves the hand on my chest to assist his other in forcing my legs further apart and pushing my knees forward towards my chest, this position and pressure on my back making it difficult for me to move away from him.

I panic as I know what's coming next. I scream, plea and beg for him not to go through with this; I promise him that I'll remain quiet in exchange for him releasing me here and now. But, once again, my pleas fall on deaf ears and soon the sound of my voice begging for mercy is replaced by the sound of my voice screaming my pain out to the heavens.

There was no preparation, no warning, just mind-numbing pain as I feel as if I am being split in half. He makes no effort to silence me, enjoying the pain I'm feeling and letting it further drive his lust. He is a sadistic pervert whose pleasure is derived from my agony. He's grunting above me, his thrusts are forceful and rough, but not too quick; he wants to enjoy this for as long as possible. He's trying to remain in control and prolong this as much as he can, knowing that he may never get this chance again for a while.

All I can do is cry, scream and pray that I pass out soon. I don't remember ever being in this much pain, not even during one of my father's nightly visits. At least with him, he was a little more gentle and used some sort of lube; he didn't want to leave me too bloody lest the servants find out. But no, this man is taking me hard, raw and slowly. He loves the feeling of having so much power over me; he relishes my pain and wants me to scream louder. And I comply.

Soon – but not soon enough – his resolve begins to fade and he begins to thrust into me quicker and more erratically. I still continue to scream, feeling myself rip and tear inside and now that he's so close to cumming, his mental shields are down and I can feel that same dark abyss from earlier threatening to overtake me. Mental pain as well as physical pain consumes me, but luckily it will be ending soon.

With a few more harsh thrust the man above me lets out a groan, low and deep in his throat, as he cums inside of me, defiling me further by filling me with his vile seed. My own screams have ceased and have been replaced with more tears and whimpers. Although his member is now soft, it still stretches me uncomfortably and I want him out. At least this is one of my wishes that he grants.

After a few seconds of collecting his breath, be pulls his now flaccid member out of me, allowing the blood and semen to better flow from my abused anus. My legs fall on either side of his body, and I want nothing more than to curl up into a tight ball once again and pretend that what just happened was nothing more than a nightmare caused by my father's actions and emotions. Silent tears fall from my eyes as I look up at the moon through the branches of the sakura tree. From with new perspective, it's like the moon is bleeding along with me and the sakura is crying with me, sharing my pain and my fear. I don't bother to look away from the scene before me, not even to acknowledge the fact that my rapist is running his hand over my chest again. I do whimper, but I make no effort to face him; I'm too busy trying to deal with the pain I already feel to worry about what else he plans on doing with me.

"It seems like such a waste to have you life ended to brutally," the faux angel says, his hand never stopping its slow ministrations. I then decide to look at him; he's still kneeling between my legs as he holds up his murder weapon from earlier and examines it, trying to figure out a fitting way to kill me. How sweet. But right now, death doesn't seem that bad of an option; anything is better than this pain and the prospect of him continuing into the night.

There's a new smirk on his lip and I know he's finally come to a decision about what to do to me. I shudder and he leans forward, hovering above me with the knife still in hand. Tears are still traveling down the side of my face but I don't bother to beg for my life anymore. I don't even bother to fight back or attempt to flee since he's not restraining me. He's now a few centimeters from my face and I can feel his hot breath on my cheek before he closes the gap between us and licks the tears from the side of my face. I turn my head to the side in a weak attempt at moving away from him, just doing so to show my disgust although I'm not trying to get away.

"Utsukushii," he whispers in my ear before pulling back some and I shudder once again, fearing that he will rape me for a second time. Whether it's good luck or not, he decides to not rape me again but instead works on murdering me. He grabs my wrists and moves my arms out so that my upper body is in the shape of a 't' or a cross. He's still pinning them down as I hear him say some sort of chant which I don't understand. Within a few seconds I feel an immense pressure on my wrist and I turn to look at my limbs to find a strange light at the base of my hands, holding me down to the ground. I pull at my restraints as I panic and I look up at my soon-to-be murderer as he picks up the knife once again to presses the tip against the skin of my chest.

"Scream for me, boya," he says before resuming his chanting and dragging the tip of the blade against my skin. The pain that I felt earlier was nothing compared to what I am feeling now. It's a hot, blinding, searing pain that seems to reach to the depths of my soul to cause me unimaginable pain. I scream louder than I had when I was being raped and I wish that he would just plunge the knife deep in my heart in order to end this torture.

I want nothing more than to pass out, escape this torment through slumber but I can't. It's as if those same restraints or his current chanting is preventing me from seeking the solitude to unconsciousness. The pain increases as he continues and it feels as if my whole body and soul is aflame. It won't stop and I can't stop screaming despite the fact that my throat is sore and raw. I know no one will come for me but that can't stop me from screaming to the heavens above, hoping and praying that someone, anyone will come to my rescue. Or at least that this man is merciful enough to end my life soon so that I can at least find refuge in death.

But I should not call this sadist a man; he's a demon. The magic that he's chanting and the sheer joy that he derives from my pain and agony cannot place him on the same level as a man. He's nothing more than a monster; a devil in human form and angel's clothing. He's using my body as a toy and this pain is threatening to eat away at my soul. Why won't he just let me die?

Finally, after what fells like an eternity, but in all actuality, was probably less than an hour, he's done with me. He used the knife to carve some sort of pattern into my skin and it's blazing red against my pale form. There's blood all over me, the demon's still hovering above me and the earth beneath us. I just look up above me, not really looking at anything as I mentally remove myself from this situation as much as possible. However, that's impossible for I can't elude the emotions of this monster as it keeps me in the grips of reality.

I hear him talking above me but I don't bother to process the words. All I can hear is my own heartbeat in my ears but I still acknowledge him and look in his direction. He's licking my blood off of the knife as he looks down at me, smirking. Will this… thing ever stop smirking? He seems so pleased with what he's done to me. He's taken so much away from me and left my entire body in pain and feeling like it's on fire.

I wonder what he's done to me. What could this pattern – this curse – that he's carved into my body mean? Why does this pain go beyond any earthly suffering but instead seems to eat at my whole being, like it will devour my heart, mind, spirit and soul along with my body? Maybe he _is_ a devil that will just devour me and drag me to a hell full of endless suffering that makes me wish for home.

He says something again and moves his hand down to cover my eyes and I feel the world around me getting dark and blurry. Now, I'm slipping into a world of quiet and peace and I wonder if he's now going to escort me with him to the world of the dead in order to great his lord and master Satan. I do wish for death – anything to end this pain – but I don't want to spend all of eternity in Hell. So, with my last ounce of consciousness – if there is a God up in heaven – I pray my lord my soul to keep.

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A/N: Again, can't believe I wrote all of this. Something must be seriously wrong with me. Oh well. So, what do you think? Should I keep going or should I hang my head in shame for having written this? Should I edit this chapter in some way, shape or form, or is it okay the way it is? Please review so I'll know that people are reading this and that I'm not posting this for nothing. I'll even accept flames (though they will be laughed at) but at least I'll know that people are reading this story.

I hope everyone is enjoying this fic and doesn't think I'm too crazy. The next chapter is "If I Should Die Before I Wake" so keep an eye open for it.

– KuroiShinigami07


	3. If I Should Die Before I Wake

**A/N**: Hey everyone. I'm back again with the next chapter of my evil, sadistic, and messed up fic. Sorry about not updating sooner, but I been busy with school and work (damn job). That, plus I forgot that I hadn't posted the third chapter yet; I thought I did so a few days ago (you know when you think about doing something for a really long time that you think you actually did it?).

But anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Please keep reviewing or else I'll feel unloved and I won't update for a while (mostly cuz I'll think that no one is reading this so I'll feel less motivated to work on the next chapter).

Now, for the **warnings**. If you have any problems with rape, torture, bad things happening to Hisoka, or the use of a prayer to write about those things, then don't worry cuz there's only some bad language and not so evil things happening to Hisoka in this chapter. Besides, if you did have a problem with any of those things, then you wouldn't have read the first two chapters.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own, so don't sue. Despite the fact that I do have a job, I have no money so all you will get is a crappy laptop and my tears.

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Chapter 3: **If I Should Die Before I Wake**

I feel the soft graze of reality as it tries to pull me away from my slumber. With my eyes fluttering and my body twitching, I try to push away at the reality I wish to escape. I want to flee from my living nightmare, to free myself from a world in which I am terrorized by pain and fear. I will give anything to remain in blissful nothingness for even a second longer; however, fate and life have always been cruel to me, so why should now be any different?

It isn't long before my mind is wretched from sweet unconsciousness and thrust into a reality full of chaos, pain and torment. My eyes shoot open and I thrash about the bed, wanting to jump out of my skin in order to alleviate some of this pain. I let out a blood curdling scream as all the pain coursing through my body finally catches up with my brain filling me with the sensation of being burnt alive.

Within a few minute I am joined by my personal doctor and two nurses. I barely notice as the two petite women try to hold me down while the doctor prepares another injection to give to me. I would have easily forgotten about him if it wasn't for the fact that I could feel the prickling sensation of a needle being stuck in my arm. Even though that feeling isn't very noticeable over the rest of the pain that I'm feeling, it's a different sensation from this all-consuming feeling of being encompassed by flames.

Unfortunately, everyone in the room knows that this injection will do nothing for me except quiet my screams some. Within minutes, what I feel is still intense, but it's a little more bearable. So while I'm a little quiet, the nurses strap me to the bed and place a wet cloth over my forehead and eyes to help with my fever. But no matter what they do, I know that it's in vain, for my body has already built up a tolerance to every medication I have ever been given. The nurses and doctor know that it's just a matter of time before my screams and wails resume and I will be left to pray for a quick death.

With my eyes covered, I can only hear the three people in the room with me as they check my vital signs, attach me to some random machines and take note of my reactions to the sedative I was given earlier. I can just barely hear them speaking to each other about my condition; their voices are in a hushed tone so to keep my uninformed. But apparently, I only slept for less than three hours, and despite the fact that that is nothing more that a quick nap to most people, it's the most I've slept at one time in nearly a month. Usually the pain I feel is too great for me to sleep; even when my body feels as if it's about to shut down, slumber still usually escapes me.

Despite the success of the sedative I received earlier, it was a near lethal dose, leaving the doctor stumped about whether or not to give me another shot of it anytime soon. But by now he should be used to giving me almost fatal injections just to keep me from remaining in completely mind-numbing pain. For the past couple of months my doctor and parents have worried that my death would be caused not by my illness but instead the medication. I think I'm the only person in history who not only built up a complete tolerance to morphine, and it doesn't even make me high or dependent; how crazy it that?

And now the doctor is at a complete loss about what to do with me now. He knows that the dose of the sedative he gave me earlier was far too large for him to safely give me anything else for almost another day but he couldn't just leave me in such pain for several more hours. So now, he has to sit here with me to make sure that I in fact won't die from what he has already given me, even though I'd have no problem with that option. Considering all the pain that I have been in for as long as I have been, death is a welcomed alternative. After three years of this, why should I be denied the refuge found only in death?

Because my parents don't want that to happen. I'm not sure if they want me to live in order to avoid the embarrassment or because they may actually care about me. But considering the way they treated me as a child, I can't bring myself to believe that they actually love me or even wanted me to be born. Almost everyday of my life I was able to hear or feel exactly how much my mother loathed my existence and wished that I was never born. Even now, she doesn't visit me or make any motherly gesture or action to make me think she has changed.

As for my father, he would probably only miss me as his little fuck-toy. Ever since I was nine years old, my father would come down to my cold, dark prison and demand some sort of 'favor' from me at least once a week. At first it was just a hand job that eventually progressed into oral sex until my father finally raped me, deflowering his only son at the tender age of eleven. No matter how much I cried, whined, squirmed and begged, in the end the only thing my father ever cared about was his own perverted satisfaction.

The funny thing is, when I was discovered that fateful morning when I was thirteen outside in the cold – alone, broken and bleeding amongst the sakuras – many of the servants suspected my father was the perpetrator. That theory lasted only for a few minutes before the body of a dead woman was discovered not too far from me, having suffered a fatal stab wound to her chest. During that time there had been a string of murders in my town that my father was never a suspect for and he would have had no reason to commit such crimes. So it was suspected that the murder was also my assailant. However, I almost wish that my father was the one who left me out there to freeze on the blood and dew soaked grass like some useless woodland creature, but alas, I was violated by yet another. At least if my father had been the one to attack me that night, I might not be here suffering in as much pain as I am now.

I know that my reasoning may sound flawed, but the idea of having my father rape me every single night until I can finally move as far away from this place as possible is a far better alternative to what I am feeling now. It's like choosing between two evils; the feeling of being impaled and ripped in half by my father's invading cock or feeling as if I'm being flayed alive with a burning hot, rusty spoon. Not a pleasant choice.

The only good that has come out of my condition is that I haven't been raped by my father since before I was attacked. When my symptoms first started to manifest, father stayed as far away from me as possible for fear of also becoming infected. But it's not as if what I have is some normal disease that can be easily spread. Even so, I don't care what he thinks. He can believe that I'm possessed by Satan himself and I couldn't care less as long as he stays away from me. And his absence is one of the few luxuries fate has given me.

Now if only fate would be kind enough to allow my doctors to discover a cure or at least a treatment to my conditions and I will be forever grateful. I don't want to be in any more pain and I want all of this to end. Even if there is no cure or treatment, then I wish that fate and this doctor will be kind enough to let me die.

I grind my teeth as I feel the effects of the medication I was just given weaken and I know it will be a matter of seconds before I am once again screaming at the top of my lungs and thrashing about the bed once again. Well, I may not be able to move about the bed too much since I have been strapped down for both my protecting and the safety of the three people who are still in the room.

One of the nurses must have noticed that I'm grinding my teeth for I feel a tightly rolled piece of cloth placed in my mouth. It's not a gag, but instead it's there to keep me from damaging my teeth and, as an added bonus, mute some of my screams. We have been through these motions so often that I no longer feel the urge to object, even if I did have the strength to talk to anyone at the moment.

She says something to me, but I don't hear her soft words; all I can hear is the sound of my heart pound in my ears and I begin to lightly tug at my restraints. This pain is once again spreading throughout my body covering my flesh with invisible flames. I moan around the cloth in my mouth and squeeze my shielded eyes tightly shut as everything hits me like a speeding freight train. My moans become muffled screams and my tugging becomes forceful pulling as I once again thrash about the bed. The restraints are doing their job of limiting my movements but it's also causing me more damage. I can just barely feel my skin being bruised and ripped by the rough leather as it cuts into my flesh, my mind too focused on the other feelings engulfing me.

The nurses know that I'm only doing myself more harm so they move to hold me down. The cloth that was over my eyes slides off my face, but my eyes are still unseeing and blinded by this red hot pain. I want to yell at the two nurses because their emotions are assaulting my unshielded mind but the cloth prevents me. I want to yell at the doctor and tell him to give me another injection of anything that will ease my suffering, even if it's just for a few minutes, but even if I could say anything, he wouldn't want to risk killing me by accident.

"There's nothing more we can do for him now so just leave him," I hear my doctor tell the two nurses who are trying to hold me down. They are hesitant about leaving me like this and although I will be glad when they release me, I can't believe that this doctor will just leave me like this without even trying to do anything else. But then again, he's given up all hope of me ever pulling though and is only doing this because my parents are paying him so much.

The nurses do release me, to my relief, but they also try to talk the doctor into trying another medication to quiet me. But no matter how much they plead with him, it all falls on deaf ears and he walks out of the room, leaving me with two scared, reluctant nurses.

"I'll go talk to his parents," I hear one of the nurses say as she runs out of the room. The other nurse can only stand at the foot of my bed and look at me as I eventually quiet down some. Not because the pain is easing but because I'm once again loosing my voice from all of this screaming. I'm no longing thrashing about the bed like a demon-possessed child but I am still pulling harshly at the restraints, causing the rough leather to continue biting into my soft, abused flesh, drawing blood.

My vision comes back into focus and I look up at the ceiling, trying to calm myself down and focus on anything other than the pain. I have to try to block out everything my body is feeling if I plan on making it through another few hours without any sort of medication.

"Ano…," the nurse says as she moves closer to me, gaining my attention. She looks so scared right now, having been left alone with a demon child afflicted with some sort of illness that no one has ever heard of. I stare at her hard, making her even more frightened, but I need to remain focused on something. She inches her way over to me and I follow her every move. She's now standing a few inches away from my left hand, her eyes focused on the bruised appendage. She winces slightly and takes a step back as I let out a high pitched whimper and arch my back off of the bed. My actions aren't just the result of physical pain, but also mental pain as I feel the emotions of two certain people as they enter the room.

The nurse jumps slightly as she hears my father's voice asking her what she's doing to me. I don't know why he's accusing the poor woman of doing anything to me when he's the one guilty of far greater sins. When I do calm down some and my body once again comes to rest on the bed, I look over at my parents as well as the doctor and nurse who left out the room a few moments ago. The nurses explain my situation to my parents while the doctor tries to defend his position of not being able to do anything else for me.

After a few more minutes of arguing, my mother orders the doctor to give me another inject of the sedative he used earlier. The doctor explains that the dose of the sedative was near-lethal and that administering it again so soon may kill me.

"Almost everything you give him is 'near-lethal' and he's still alive. Just give it to him, Sensei; not like there's anything to lose, now is there?" My mother's words are curt but sharp. She's tired of being able to hear my screams and wails through the padded walls and probably just wants to shut me up so she can get some rest. Plus, she hates having to be asked to come down here by the nurses so if this will shut them up, she'll agree with them.

My father on the other hand seems a little worried about the prospect of me dying so he doesn't agree with mother and the nurses. He asks what will happen if I don't receive the injection but my doctors that's he's unsure.

"It's possible that the pain may send him into shock or cause several other complications but I can't be sure. We usually give him something to deal with the pain but the last painkiller we gave him was ineffective so he must have already built up a tolerance to it. There's nothing else we can give him that we haven't already tried unless you want me to give him cocaine or something of that nature."

"If it will help, then try it," my father says as he moves out of the room, not wanting to remain here for a second longer. I guess the absolute sterility of the room makes him feel uncomfortable or he doesn't want to be in the same room with me if I'm not busy sucking him off. Either way, this does nothing but give my mother the chance to tell the doctor to ignore her husband and give me the sedative.

The doctor says nothing as he silently walks over to the cabinet where he keeps all of the medications and takes out a small vile filled with a clear liquid. He reaches down into a draw to pull out a syringe and begins to process of filling it with a necessary amount.

"Is that how much you gave him earlier," mother asks him. His back is to her and he turns around to walk towards me, not even bothering to answer her question until he comes to a stop just a few inches from my restrained arm.

"This is actually a little more than what I gave him earlier. Hisoka-sama's body has probably already begun to build up a tolerance to this so I have to give him a higher dose. Don't worry; it isn't too much of a difference."

"You act as if I care about whether or not it will hurt him; as long as he's quiet I'm satisfied." The doctor and both nurses turn to look at my cold-hearted mother, unable to believe that she said such a thing about my well-being but I'm used to it; my life never mattered much to her before so why should it now.

The doctor turns his attention back to the task at hand and sticks the needle in my arm, filling my veins with this powerful sedative. He takes a step back and just looks down at me for a few seconds. We both know that it may take a while before I actually feel anything but he probably doesn't want to face my mother just yet.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" With that said my mother walks out of the room and leaves me behind with the nurses and doctor. They are still dumbstruck that a woman could act so cold and apathetic about her only child. They must not have spent too much time around her if they haven't gotten used to the way she treats me. But then again, it is rather hard to accept; mothers generally give a damn about their children, especially their only child.

After a few minutes they are still standing around me, waiting for something to happen. Luckily, the sedative is beginning to kick in and I begin to feel sleepy while my pain feels so far away as if it isn't my own. I've always hated this detached feeling that comes from being sedated; it feels as if my body is no longer under my power and I have no control over the only thing in the world that is truly my own.

Soon, the entire room gets fuzzy and everything sounds as if I'm underwater. Nothing is as it should be and I know it'll only be a matter of minutes before I am once again embraced by sweet unconsciousness. Slumber is my only recluse and I never want to deny it but something is off. My breathing seems more forced as if my lungs aren't listening to my brain and have just decided to not fully fill themselves with oxygen. My heart also feels as if it's slowed down some, beating in a lazy pace that doesn't seem healthy.

And my heartbeat must be unhealthy for the heart monitoring machine that I'm attached to sets off an alarm letting the three people in the room know that my heart isn't beating as it should. But even the sound of the alarm doesn't bother me and it seems like it isn't real. Maybe its not. I was just given a sedative so it's very possible that I'm doing nothing more than dreaming about dying. It's not like it would be the first time that my desire for death has influenced my dreams.

But this isn't a dream. The doctor is standing above me with his hands on my shoulders and he shakes me to keep me awake. He even goes so far as to slap me across my face to keep me remaining in the clutches of reality. He knows that my heart is beating far too slowly and if I do fall asleep, there's no guarantee that I'll wake up again. But what's wrong with that? Why shouldn't I be granted the peace and freedom that only eternal slumber brings? Why can't he just leave me be?

Despite everything the doctor is doing, the nurses have no idea what to do. They both know that there's no way for me to fight the effects of a sedative and that I won't survive if I do fall asleep. But that doesn't stop the doctor from trying. He shakes me, slaps me and even tries to force my eyelids open with his fingers. He yells at one of the nurses to go get my parents again and I barely notice as one of the women runs out of the room. I barely heard the doctor but I can only guess that that's what he said.

His actions are annoying me but it isn't long before I no longer notice anything. It's as if my brain and body have completely shut off and are now refusing to let anyone arouse me. I can barely feel the hands on my shoulders trying to jostle me from my sleep. I don't care anymore; maybe death is a good thing. It's inevitable and it's not like anyone will miss me. The only thing that will happen is that it will blemish my parents' reputation and public image but that's for them to worry about, not me.

I can't fight it anymore (not like I was trying to fight it), and I finally slip into blissful unconsciousness. And if I should die before I wake…

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Yay, chapter 3 is finally done. Took me long enough. But, please review and tell me what you think. I actually wanted to rewrite this chapter cuz I didn't think it was very good, so let me know if I should just try again. Don't let me post crap; I like my stories to be as good as possible.

The next chapter is "I Pray My Lord My Soul to Take" and it deals with a bunch of stuff. I actually haven't started on it yet but if I don't receive a bunch of reviews, I won't start on it for a while. The more reviews, the quicker I'll write and update. Please let me feel loved and wanted.

I'm not trying to be a bitch or anything, it's just that I'm one of the biggest procrastinators you will ever meet, and reviews are my motivation. They let me know that people are actually reading this story and not just clicking on it, reading part of the first chapter and then avoiding my story like the plague. And since the next chapter has been giving me so much trouble, I know that it is very possible for me to put off writing it for another month or so and I don't want to do that if I know people are reading and enjoying this fic. I'm just a slave to my reviews; if I'm asked to update soon, I'll update soon. If I'm asked to write a new story, I'll work on it sooner than if no one asks me to. That's just how I am. So please, don't be mad at me for asking for reviews; it's the only way I know I'll get off my lazy ass and write something.

– KuroiShinigami07


	4. I Pray My Lord My Soul to Take

**A/N**: I'm so sorry for taking so long to update but I had the semester from hell and didn't get a chance to even start on this chapter until right before Christmas. So, again, I'm sorry for taking so long but I didn't have time. And I feel really bad since I was bitchy about reviews to help motivate me. If it's any consolation, every time I got a review it made me want to work on this fic and I would weigh the options between writing and sleeping (sleeping always won). So please forgive me.

But that's enough of me asking for forgiveness. This chapter gave me hell. Not just because I didn't have time until recently to write it, but also because the last line to this prayer is more difficult to write about. But luckily, this is only my third attempt at this chapter but I kinda don't like it. Again, I just rewrote what happened in the series (nothing else fit, believe me I tried) and I hate being unoriginal. This chapter follows what happened in the manga more so than the anime and some of the dialogue is paraphrased from (have not and will not read what Viz released so it will be different from what they have).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And sorry again for taking so long to update (especially since I was bitchy about reviews).

Now, for the **warnings**. If you have any problems with rape, torture, bad things happening to Hisoka, or the use of a prayer to write about those things, then don't worry cuz there's only a little bad language and not so evil things happening to Hisoka in this chapter. Besides, if you did have a problem with any of those things, then you wouldn't have read the first three chapters.

Don't own, don't sue. I have no money so all you will get is a crappy laptop and my tears.

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Chapter 4: I Pray My Lord My Soul To Take 

Beneath the pale light of the moon, I have always known nothing but fear. While its silvery rays may have brought peace and comfort to some, for me it has only ever symbolized the pain and suffering that I was sure to face. Only under the pale light of the moon would I scream into the heavens, wishing and dreaming for everything to come to an end. Only when the moon bathed the earth beneath her in a soft glow would I know the true meaning of fear and hope for release from it all. It was during this time that I said my nightly prayers, hoping that some god – any god – would be merciful enough to end my suffering.

It never happened. Or at least my prayers were granted too late after years of suffering and left me to question whether or not I was truly deserving of how I was treated. But no matter how long it took or how it seemed like my prayers fell upon deaf ears like so many of my screams, I'm still praying now. But this time, it's not for my own life and safety but instead for the one that means the most to me.

I silently pray that I can make it in time to save my precious partner from that sadistic, murderous rapist. Dr. Muraki wants nothing more than to break and crush everything that he finds beautiful and that is exactly what he's been doing to Tsuzuki. Muraki pushed him to the brink of insanity and caused him so much pain and suffering all for his own sick, perverted pleasures. He killed innocent people and made Tsuzuki do the same, knowing that the gentle Shinigami wants nothing more than to save and protect everyone around him, even if it means his own pain. But instead, Muraki decided that it was best to break the already unstable man for some sadistic purpose that I will never fully understand. He's pushed my partner to the edge of insanity to be surrounded by his internal demons.

But now I'm here with Tatsumi and Watari in front of the lab that Oriya told us to come to. The two older men slide the cardkeys and we run into the laboratory as quickly as possible, all the time hoping to reach Tsuzuki before Muraki can torment him any further. I curse my weak frame for having not fully healed from the earlier battle and slowing me down. Or maybe it's because I'm stuck forever in the body of a weak sixteen year old that's following behind two fully grown men that I'm acting as nothing more than a burden.

Either way, I can't possibly keep up with them so I'm left to lag behind and shout out directions. For as long as we've been running I have yet to sense the amethyst-eyed Shinigami's presence despite the fact that I've lowered all of my mental shields and stretched my empathy to the point where I feel as if my head is about to explode. Although Oriya gave us this address and the cardkeys to this place, I don't know if the man was telling the truth or if he was only trying to buy his best friend some more time to continue torturing my partner. But luckily (if you want to consider it lucky) the only presence I can sense besides to two other Shinigami running ahead of me is Muraki's. Part of me knows that wherever the madman is, Tsuzuki shouldn't be too far away, but another part of me fears that he has already abused, used and discarded my partner like some old rag doll. Either way, I swear on my life and soul that if Muraki has done anything to Tsuzuki there will be hell to pay.

I focus only on my silent prayers as I run as fast as I can behind Watari and Tatsumi, trying not to get lost in this massive labyrinth called a laboratory. I pray that we aren't too late since we were held up by Oriya when I had to fight him in that stupid match. The preparation, battle and all of his talking cost us valuable time that could have been spent finding and saving Tsuzuki.

I don't want anyone else to suffer a fate similar to mine at the hands of that demon dressed in doctor's clothing. However, not being able to feel my partner is causing me unease. I let the other two men before me know that I'm just following Muraki, hoping that wherever he is, Tsuzuki won't be too far. I can feel their unease at knowing that the only person in this place as far as I can tell is that madman. I direct them towards the central area of the lab, and they run even faster, now having a clear destination. I hold onto the hope that we can make it to my partner in time and that there aren't any traps or obstacles to hinder our progress.

Within a few moments after entering the lab, the ground beneath our feet trembles and shakes violently. I let out a small, surprised yelp as I nearly lose my balance while my empathy becomes assaulted by the sudden presence of another entity. I quickly raise my mental shields so that I don't become consumed by new, sudden presence that has appeared. Tatsumi and Watari comment about what could be the cause of the violent rumbling and the shadow master questions whether or not there is a self-destruct mechanism present. But I know what it is and I assure them that that the lab is not self-destructing.

It's a somewhat familiar presence that I sense; one that is obviously not human or anything else that I would ever encounter on a daily basis – a Shikigami. However, this is the first time that I have ever sensed this particular Shiki but I know for sure that it's one of Tsuzuki's. I can just barely sense Tsuzuki with my shields raised but his mind feels so…lost. It's as if he's not himself and his consciousness is very unstable like he's holding onto reality by a thin thread that's threatening to snap in any second.

There is another rumble and everything around us begins to crumble and fall; debris raining down like a storm of plaster, concrete and paint. We lower our heads and shield our eyes from this downpour and although we slow down some, we never cease our travel. There is an explosion behind us and a section of the wall and ground fall into a pit of black flames that seem to be consuming everything they touch. We can't help but turn to the sight of such hellish destruction and I can tell by the waves of concern and worry coming from Tatsumi that something is seriously wrong; he must know the secret behind these black flames.

But for now, I couldn't care less about those flames and I am more concerned about saving Tsuzuki. The area beneath us seems to be the most likely place for my partner and the doctor to be located so I try to look into the lab for either male but the flames are making that task near impossible. As a result, I have to lower my shields once again and use my empathy to help me gage a possible place that my partner could be located. I direct all of my attention and focus to the enflamed section of the laboratory for the unstable, amethyst-eyed man. It isn't long before I locate my target and I let the two men beside me know that I've found Tsuzuki. I now look down into the blazing pit and I can now see my partner, but it's strange how he's just sitting in the middle of the destruction and fire, making no attempt to move and run for safety.

It's as if Tsuzuki is trying to destroy himself along with the lab and Muraki. I can clearly see my partner and I disregard the flames as I try to head down there to help him out; I'll be damned if I'm going to let him die down there. But as soon as I move to leap into the inferno, I am stopped by Tatsumi as he reaches out his hand to grab my arm. I glare at my superior with hopes that he will release me but his grip remains vice-like.

"Wait Kurosaki-kun, that fire is not made of normal flames," the older man says, concern lacing his voice and emotions. "Touda's fire is of terribly high heat and even your life will be in danger," he exclaims, not wanting to risk my safety. I look once again at the black flames that are burning everything they touch, reducing it to nothing but ash. Seeing this and knowing that I will be injured do nothing to my resolve; I'm going to get Tsuzuki out of there no matter what.

"What are you talking about?" I ask nearly screaming at him, anger and annoyance lacing my voice. I know I should be more respectful to Tatsumi but he's preventing me from rescuing my partner. "Even a burn injury will soon…" I begin saying, knowing that even if I am injured and suffer some pain, I will just heal anyway. It shouldn't even be that big of a problem since I've always had strong healing capabilities, enough to even rival Tsuzuki's and everyone in EnmaCho knows this.

"You," Tatsumi begins, "think that Shinigami have truly immortal bodies, don't you?" With that said, he's questioning my assumptions, not really my desire to help Tsuzuki or actions. I begin to remember being told once that if I ever receive cellular damage greater than what my healing abilities can handle, than it's like I'm nothing more than a normal human. So I guess that means that my life would be endangered if I go down there but that doesn't mean that I'll let Tsuzuki die in this fire.

No matter what anyone may say, nothing will stop me from doing what I feel needs to be done. I wrest my arm from his grasp and jump into the raging inferno to rescue my partner, ignoring the protests of Watari and Tatsumi as I focus all of my attention on Tsuzuki. I land on a half-fallen support beam that collapsed from the ceiling and scan the ground beneath me to find my partner once more. The flames are burning steadily with half the laboratory being covered in an impossibly hot, raging black fire that makes the images of hell seem like a vacation in the Bahamas. The smoke and flames make it difficult to see but I eventually catch sight of the amethyst-eyed Shinigami still sitting amongst all the carnage.

"Tsuzuki!" I yell out at him to try to get his attention. "What are you doing, you idiot? Hurry up and come here!" My partner looks up at me with a somewhat dazed expression on his face as if he has no idea what is going on. Touda's flames are consuming everything in its path, but luckily the Shikigami seems to be purposely avoiding his master, burning the rest of the building around him just in case the man decides to replenish his will to live.

Tsuzuki looks at me completely confused as if he never expected to see me. Soon, that confusion turns to fear as he notices that I'm in the lab with him and he yells at me to get out of here or else I may die. I don't heed his warnings but instead I tell him that I'll be right there before jumping down into the flames.

The lab is unbearably hot but that doesn't deter me as I make my way over to Tsuzuki. He's just sitting there as if nothing is happening around him and that none of this matters. His emotions are a jumbled mess that threatens to consume me faster than these black flames would. All the pain, fear, guilt, sorrow, worry, pity, and many more emotions are like a sea of angst and self-pity that he's swimming in, preventing him from thinking clearly about his safety. Even my mental shields cannot fully protect me from the onslaught of emotions that are flowing from him but this does nothing but make me want to rescue my partner even more.

"Baka. Do you think I came all this way to watch you die!" I'm screaming my fear and panic at him, not wanting the only person in my life who has ever meant anything to me to just leave me here, all alone once again. I move closer to him and reach down to pull him up so that we can leave but he makes no effort to move; he's resisting me like a stubborn mule refusing to do any work. It's as if he's glued to the ground and no amount of force or pressure that I exert will move him. He shakes his head and stays where he is, mentally berating himself for having gotten me involved in all of this.

"I…just want to die now," he says, voice low and solemn while his regrets eat away at his soul and heart. "It's enough, Hisoka… I've lived for far too long…" Tears begin to stream down his face and his voice becomes choked as he continues, "I'm tired." He sounds so broken and defeated leaving me to wonder if it truly is painful and torturous for him to continue existing. Does his blame and guilt run so deeply that he cannot see the people who truly care about him and love him? Will he not allow himself to be forgiven for the sins that he never committed but thinks he's guilty of? Is his life really so tortuous that he no longer has any will to live?

I can't stand the thought of him leaving me forever so I throw myself into my partner's lap and wrap my arms around his neck, cling onto him for dear life. I don't ever want to lose him and I will be damned if I'll just let him stay here to die. I've lived for far too long suffering at the hands of my family, Muraki, my own powers and fate. Too many nights have I cried myself to sleep, too many mornings have I waken up screaming and too many days have I been beaten, raped and treated like a monster. All too well do I know the feelings of worthlessness and shame and all too often have I blamed myself for my suffering and the suffering of others. I have known the pain associated with existing in such a harsh, cruel world but now I've finally found a reason to live. Why can't Tsuzuki see that his life does have meaning and that no one would be happy if he were gone? Why can't he see that I want him here with me?

"I'm not going back!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I cling onto Tsuzuki tighter. " I…don't want to be…alone," I say in a low whisper, tears slowly making their way down my face as I remember the pain, fear and loneliness that I had to endure throughout my life. "I decided a long time ago," I begin as I move to whisper in his ear, "that my place to return to is _here, _b_y_ your side only." So if he thinks that this is the only way to atone for the sins he never commit, then I want to join him. I don't want to ever be alone again and I have lived too long to continue eking out an existence by myself.

Tsuzuki doesn't know what to think or feel now that I declared my feelings to him. It feels as if a million things are going through his head and he seems so shocked that I actually feel this way about him. Have I really kept all of my emotions that hidden from him that he couldn't tell that I think of him differently than I do all the others? Have I really been that shut off and quiet that even he didn't know the truth?

He may not know what to do but I just continue to cling onto him like the scared child that I am as I burying my head against his shoulder in a pathetic attempt to hide my tears. Even though I know it won't be long before we both die, I'm still as prideful as ever and I refuse to let him see my weaknesses. All the while he just sits there with his back against some wall, arms down at his side while fighting an internal battle. He doesn't know whether or not we should die here like two lovers from a cheesy romance novel, if he should save me before ending his life, or if we should both survive and try to live happily ever after. Tsuzuki wants nothing more than to die, but he doesn't want me to be sacrificed alongside him. Even in the end my partner is truly selfless.

"It's okay," I say barely above a whisper as I lift my head some, but I know the other man can hear me. I let my chin rest on his shoulder as I look forward at nothing; the left side of my face resting next to his as my right hand begins to gently stroke his hair. "Neither of us really wanted a life like this, so it's okay if we end it all."

We're both surprisingly calm as hellish flames surround us. My partner's emotions begin to die down some now that he knows that I don't fear death as much as he thinks. Slowly, almost timidly, he raises his arms and gently embraces me, his left hand gently drawing circles on my lower back. Tsuzuki's grip is loose as if he's expecting me to break free in order to run away but instead I just make myself more comfortable. I loosen my grip on him and lay my head against his shoulder again while straddling his lap. He breathes a deep sigh of relief and tightens his hold on me; for the first time since I met the amethyst-eyed man, he's completely at peace. And so am I. Who would have ever guessed that the prospect of being burnt alive would have such an effect on us?

But now it's beginning to get unbearably hot as the flames inch closer and closer to where we sit. I cough a little as some of the smoke enters my lungs but that's not what I should be worried about; it's the flames that will be source of our demise. Fear and worry begin to rear their ugly heads as black fire begins to graze my skin, burning my ivory skin. I pull away from the inferno and curl further into Tsuzuki, futilely trying to escape the flames. In response, he wraps himself tighter around me, bringing his knees up to nearly rest against my back and he uses his arms to cover my own; he's like my own personal human shield. I don't know why my partner is trying to protect me from these flames, allowing his own body to be burnt first. He should know that it'll just be a matter of time before we are both completely engulfed by this hellish fire and sent to our eternal deaths. But it seems that even as our end draws nearer, he doesn't want to see me hurt and will protect me, even though my fate will be the same.

It almost doesn't seem real to me that I'll finally be able to rest in peace, but will I really find what I'm searching for? Has my life been so virtuous and devoid of sin that I will make it to heaven with Tsuzuki? It seems as if my life has been proof of how I've been abandoned and forsaken by god for the sin of being born. I lived without love, only knowing pain and suffering; even in death I was not free from it. And when I was finally granted some semblance of peace, love and happiness, I encountered this scenario and the possibility of losing it all. Maybe dying in this inferno will be a glimpse of what I must face for all eternity.

But Tsuzuki doesn't have to worry about such a fate. Although he may feel as though he has committed several unforgivable sins and thinks that he is deserving of some sort of divine punishment, he is more angel than man. Muraki was right when he said that my partner wasn't fully human, but that doesn't mean he's a demon. Demons aren't as caring, selfless, generous, and kind as Tsuzuki, so how can he think that he should be degraded to such a level? How can such a gentle person allow himself to be defined by a demon that's guilty of far worse than either of us can ever imagine?

I want nothing more than to spend all of eternity by Tsuzuki's side but I fear that that may not be the case; I don't want to drag him down to the hell that I'm am sure I'll face, and there's not much of a chance that I'll spend any time in the presence of angels, lest they are hell's angels. Because of that, I wish time will stop forever so we can remain together here for all eternity, but I know that's impossible. I hold on to the hope that we will somehow go to the same place so I won't have to be alone ever again; I don't want to be without my precious partner. We were finally able to find each other after so much time, heartache, and pain, so I want our destinies, fates and souls to continue their union.

So for now, it seems like my only option is to continue to pray. Even as these black flames of hell that were created by Touda attack our flesh and consume everything in their wake, I pray. Maybe now some god in heaven will be merciful enough to hear and grant this final wish of mine. The pain of my life, my death and my existence as a Shinigami will be nothing compared to spending all of eternity separated from Tsuzuki. They say that you have to make it to heaven for going through hell, so maybe it is possible for me to avoid damnation and ascend into heaven with my angelic partner. So as the world turns black and becomes devoid of sound, feeling, and pain, all I can do is cling onto Tsuzuki and hope that we will meet again in the afterlife. With that desire crying out from every fiber of my being, I pray my Lord my soul to take.

* * *

Yay, I'm finally done. I guess that all the continuous editing, revisions and failed attempts made me think that this fic would take up all my time. But now it's finished and as long as everyone doesn't hate it, I'm happy. 

And this is the part of my end notes where I beg for reviews. I really want to know if I should rewrite this chapter or leave it as it is. Like I said at the beginning, I hate being unoriginal so if you think I should try again, let me know. Even though I write fanfics because I enjoy it, there's no point in me posting them if no one else likes it so let me know what you think. Also, I'm thinking about writing a sequel to this fic, but I have so many different ideas floating around in my head that it makes me want to scream. So, suggestions are welcomed (you can either email me or make suggestions in a review).

Thanks for reading this fic and putting up with my procrastination/semester from hell. I don't know when I'll post my next fic (I'm dealing with another semester from hell) and I don't know if it'll be a Gravitation fic or YnM (I have one partially written but I don't feel like rewriting 25 pages so I'll be procrastinating on that for a while). Either way, I'll try to do a better job of updating more frequently after it's posted.

Don't forget to review; I don't even mind flames cuz I know that I'm not perfect, and neither is this fic. I hope you enjoyed this fic and thanks again for reading.

-- KuroiShinigami07


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